


Are You Happy? Or Just Less Miserable?

by ahyperactivehero (ahyperactiverhero)



Category: Bandom, Fall Out Boy
Genre: Angst, F/M, Implied/Referenced Cheating, Infidelity, M/M, Tumblr Prompt
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-03
Updated: 2017-06-03
Packaged: 2018-11-08 11:41:22
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,630
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11080851
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ahyperactiverhero/pseuds/ahyperactivehero
Summary: Based on tumblr prompt that said :for the peterick prompt thing; something angsty based on the i in lie/headfirst slide into cooperstown?Patrick's not happy, Pete's not happy, the band's not happy, and no one seems to know what to do.





	Are You Happy? Or Just Less Miserable?

The bunk was far too small for the two of them. It had been for many years, yet that had never really stopped them before. However, there seemed to be another force there, making it three people instead of just the usual two in the bunk.

“Hey, Patrick,” Pete whispered, his mouth so close to Patrick's ear it occasionally brushed it when he spoke. “Are you still awake?”

Patrick laid there, debating what to do. Part of him was curious as to what Pete could possibly be wanting this late at night, while the other part of him didn't want to know. He was too tired for whatever it was, he was sure of that much.

“Hey,” Pete said. Hard, stiff fingers dug into Patrick's side. “Patrick, are you awake?”

He sighed. “Well, I am now. Why?”

Pete was silent. The whole damn bus was silent. That was because of the fact that it was around two in the morning, Patrick was sure, and all he really wanted to do was sleep like the rest of the world. Only an asshole like Pete would be waking him up after he'd finally gotten back on a more normal sleeping schedule, a feat which was nearly impossible while on tour.

“Pete?” Patrick asked. He tried to turn over, hoping that there might be enough light in the bunk to allow him to see the man next to him.

“Are you happy?” Pete asked. Patrick could see him picking at his nails. The black paint that Patrick knew was on there would soon be pried off in pieces and sitting around on his bunk.

“What do you mean?” Patrick asked. 

Pete sighed angrily. “Exactly what I asked. Are you happy?”

Patrick paused for a moment. Why wouldn't he be happy? He was in a rock band with his best friends, they had the ability to tour all around the world and do things most other people couldn't, he was getting to do what he loved to do and get paid quite well for it, and he was laying next to the person he loved more than anyone else in the world.

Okay, so that last one didn't exactly make him happy. Mainly because it wasn't supposed to make him happy. He wasn't supposed to fall in love with his best friend this way, and he'd certainly never planned to. It had just happened.

They were supposed to be best friends with the best of benefits. They got the physical and emotional aspects of a relationship without the publicity and drama of the rock star relationship lifestyle. That's all it was supposed to be.

“Yeah, Pete. I'm happy,” Patrick answered. He paused, trying to see Pete through the dark. “Are you happy?”

Pete laid there for a long time, so long Patrick was sure he'd fallen back asleep. Instead, Pete finally sighed and rolled over out of the bunk. His bare feet slammed onto the bus floor, a rather crashing sound among the soothing sounds of the bus rolling across the road.

“Goodnight, Patrick,” Pete said. 

Patrick squinted after Pete, watching him as he climbed into his own bunk. He wasn't sure what exactly had happened, but he knew from personal experience that sometimes it was best to let Pete go off on his own until he was ready to talk about it.

“Goodnight, Pete,” Patrick said, rolling over and going back to sleep.

XXXX

Sometimes Pete went through moods, just like Patrick, where they wouldn't have anything physical to their relationship. Instead they would devote their time to just being “normal” best friends, just like they were with Andy and Joe.

Patrick was fine with this. He was fine with anything, as long as he was still in Pete's life, as long as he was still something important to him. That's how he knew that he had broken their rules about the relationship a long time ago.

He'd thought it would be a brief thing. That Pete would get tired of sex with him and find someone else to do. There were plenty of other people who'd be more than willing to have sex with him, yet for some reason he'd chosen Patrick out of all of them. He hadn't yet, though, which had encouraged Patrick so far.

Yet he'd be more distant lately. Their talks about life, sex, movies, music, _anything_ were getting more and more spaced out. He no longer crawled into Patrick's bunk to tell him about the lyric that he'd just thought of and had to tell Patrick about right at that moment. It was slowly beginning to feel like they were just _bandmates_ and not friends, much less anything else.

It was a month or so later when things started to make more sense. He and Joe were arguing over something stupid, probably the way a guitar was supposed to sound or who had ate the last of the cereal or something, when Pete came in. A smile was splitting his face and he seemed happier than he had been in months.

“Hey guys!” Pete said, bouncing past them to the bunk area. Joe glanced at Patrick, his eyes clearly saying that the argument was going to be put on hold until they figured out what was up with Pete.

“Hey, dude, what's up?” Joe asked, leaning over the couch. Joe glanced at Andy, who was sitting over on the other couch, steadily ignoring them. Patrick knew from experience that he wasn't going to be getting involved with any argument that Joe or Patrick were having, and most of the time it was easier to ignore Pete until they figured out what was exactly up.

The sounds of several articles of clothing being thrown everywhere came to Patrick's ears. This was the most activity Pete had shown outside of a show in a while, which made Patrick more than slightly confused and more than slightly worried. He knew from past experience that extra activity is usually a cause for a concern.

“Just trying to find that one shirt, you know?” Pete called out. “You know, the black button up one?” The sounds of several more shirts hitting the bus floor were heard.

Joe looked at Patrick, his brows knitting in confusion. “The black one? I think it's in your bottom drawer,” he said.

Patrick felt his stomach twist in an uncomfortable way. He knew that shirt. It was one that very rarely ever saw the light of day, usually only reserved for special dates. 

A shirt that used to sometimes be reserved for him.

“Oh, who's the lucky person?” Joe asked, wagging his eyebrows at Patrick, as if he knew anything.

“Do you remember Ashlee?” Pete said. “I hung out with her the other night, we've been texting?”

The twist in Patrick's stomach became more pronounced, causing him to wonder if he was going to be sick. Joe, who must have caught on to something, rolled his eyes at Pete. 

“Dude, don't brag about your booty calls. It's gross,” Joe said. He gave Patrick a little nod as if to say he had his back on this one.

“She's not a booty call, Joe,” Pete said. He walked back in, the black button up that Patrick loved on him clinging to his lean form as he tried to style is hair. “She's more important than that.”

“Whatever you say, man,” Joe said. He leaned back and picked up his guitar, ending the conversation with Pete and the argument with Patrick.

Pete looked at Patrick out of the corner of his eye, almost as if he didn't want him to know that he was looking at him. He didn't look happy to be rubbing his date in Patrick's face, but it was still happening either way.

“I gotta go,” Patrick said, almost sprinting to the bathroom.

One more second and he was going to be sick right there in the living area, which was definitely a bus “no-no”.

Or he'd punch Pete right in the face. Yet another bus “no-no” and neither one of them would be good for the band.

XXXX

Nothing was good for the band anymore. Hell, there was hardly even a band anymore.

Patrick laid down in his bunk. He'd just fought with Joe for about the hundredth time over something he didn't actually care about, Andy was already done with his shit, the fans hated the music, and Pete was married now.

It was probably that last one that messed him up the most, though.

He laid in the bunk, staring up at the ceiling and wondering what exactly he should do first. He knew he would eventually have to apologize to Joe and explain what was going on to Andy, yet all he wanted to do was lay there until the world stopped turning around him.

“Hey, Trick!” Pete yelled, plowing himself head first into the bunk with him. He smelled like vodka and perfume, reminding Patrick of where he had been up until about five minutes ago. Tonight had been an off night where Ashlee had been able to visit, so Pete and her had decided to make the most of it and go on a date to some party.

Meanwhile, Patrick had hung around the bus starting a fight with literally half of his band and anyone dumb enough to stand within five feet of him.

“Tricky, Tricky, Tricky,” Pete said. He wrapped his arms around Patrick's middle and rubbed his face into his back, wiping sweat and makeup off onto his clean night shirt.

“What, Pete?” he said. This was the first time Pete had crawled into his bed like this in a long time, and it was sadly annoying him. Where had this kind of affection been before Ashlee?

“I've missed you,” Pete said.

Patrick scrunched his brows. He tried to roll over, but he was held in place by Pete. “What are you talking about? You literally saw me like five hours ago. We share a bus for God's sake.”

Pete rubbed his face against his back again. “It's not the same. We're not the same,” he complained. His voice was low, like that of a child who had been denied something sweet.

Patrick sighed. “Pete, it's late,” Patrick said. A drunk Pete was not an easy to deal with Pete, especially once he had set his mind on something like he apparently had.

“I don't care, I miss you!” Pete said. He'd gone from Happy Drunk Pete to Sad Drunk Pete in the span of about three minutes, which only added to Patrick's stress and annoyance. If he hadn't pissed off Joe or Andy he might have been able to push him off on one of them while he slept, yet they'd taken off for a hotel to get away from Patrick.

“Okay, Pete, I miss you, too,” he said. He reached an arm behind him and tried to pat him on the back, which resulted in Pete grabbing his arm and holding it in place around him.

“No you don't. You don't miss me like I miss you,” Pete said. He rubbed his thumb over Patrick's stomach, his hand moving lower inch by inch.

“Stop, Pete,” Patrick said. He wiggled until he could get away from Pete, pushing himself up against the wall of the bunk. 

“See!” Pete yelled. He pointed an accusing finger at Patrick, as if it was somehow his fault Pete had gotten married. “You don't miss me like I miss you.”

“And how exactly am I supposed to miss you, Pete?!” Patrick yelled. 

“Like you love me!” Pete yelled . “You're supposed to miss me like I miss you, which is like how I love you!”

Patrick stared at him. It was hard to see him through the low light but he could see his big brown eyes staring at Patrick with as much hurt as a human being could possibly experience.

Anger flooded Patrick. He pushed his knees up between them and kicked Pete right out of his bunk, causing him to sprawl in the aisle in between them. “Fuck off,” Patrick said. The anger in his tone was almost a physical presence in the bus with them.

“What the fuck, dude!” Pete yelled. He jumped up off of his ass and reached into Patrick's bunk in order to shove him back. “What was that!?”

Patrick scrambled out of the bunk, the urge to be on an equal footing overwhelming to him. He was still slightly shorter than Pete, but he at least had his weight behind him if it came to a physical fight.

“What the fuck is wrong with me?! What's wrong with you!” Patrick asked. He jabbed a finger into Pete's chest and pushed him back.

“I just told you I love you and you fucking kicked me!” Pete said. He swatted Patrick's hang away and shoved him again. 

“No,” Patrick said, trying to calm his voice. “You don't get to do that!”

“Do what!?”

“Say that you love me after you got married and then try to make me miss you!” Patrick screamed. “That's not fair!”

“But I've always loved you!” Pete said. “It's always been you!”

Patrick threw his arms in the air. “Then why is it not really me, huh!? Why are you married to someone else and still trying to crawl into bed with me?”

Pete's eyes softened, the fight seeming to diminish within him. “Because I thought you had moved on. Or you would sooner or later. So why wait for it when there was someone else who I knew for sure wanted me.”

Patrick rolled his eyes. “Glad to know I was just too difficult for you, especially when I didn't even know I was being difficult,” he said. He turned to walk away, yet Pete grabbed his arm to pull him back.

“You weren't being difficult. I was. And I'm sorry because I love you,” Pete said. He leaned in and slowly pressed his lips against Patrick's. It was a chaste kiss, something that could barely even be called a kiss, until Patrick began to kiss back.

Pete wrapped his arms around Patrick, pressing his lips even harder against his and pulling him as close as possible to him. Patrick opened his mouth, allowing Pete to stick his tongue inside. Pete's hands ran down Patrick's back, stopping on his ass and grabbing it.

Pete tasted like vodka and bad regrets, completely covering up Ashlee's perfume from earlier. If Patrick closed his eyes he could pretend that Pete wasn't crying while groping him and that this was a year earlier, back when they would use any excuse to have sex on an empty bus.

Patrick pulled his head back, which was quite a hard feat considering the way Pete was trying to jam his tongue down his throat at the moment. 

“Pete,” Patrick said, gently pushing against him. Instead of backing away Pete got closer, his face going directly for Patrick's neck and his hands moving around towards his front. “Pete, stop.”

“Why?” Pete said, the tears he had tried to hold back now falling. “I thought you said you loved me?” His voice was broken and hopeless, a sound that Patrick never hoped to hear again coming from him.

“God, Pete,” Patrick said. “You have no clue how much I love you. I love you so much more than you could ever know.” He pushed back on Pete once more, trying to step away from him again. “But you're married now. Remember your wife, Ashlee?”

Pete sighed, pulling Patrick closer until they were standing there in a hug. “I already talked to her about this. She was the one who suggested we be a bit open and told me it would be okay as long as it was you.”

Patrick stared at Pete. This was what he'd wanted for the past few months at least. He'd missed Pete in a way he'd never missed anyone else before, and at least this way he'd be able to experience some kind of relationship with him. 

But he knew that that wouldn't be enough. He knew that he wanted to be the one and only person in Pete's life, just like he wanted Pete to be the only person in his life. 

But if this was the only way...

“As long as it's only me,” Patrick said. His stomach twisted and so did his heart as he pushed Pete backwards towards the bunk. “No one else, right?”

Pete nodded and helped to pull Patrick's shirt off. “No one else.”

XXXX

“I can't do this anymore,” Patrick said. Pete was laying behind him, rubbing circles on his back and pressing butterfly kisses to his neck.

“Can't do what anymore?” Pete asked, pausing in his kisses.

Patrick sighed and ran a hand down over his face. “This. Any of this,” he said.

Pete sat up, trying to lean around to catch a glimpse of Patrick's face. “What do you mean?”

“The band, us, I don't know. I just can't do this anymore,” he said. His voice was monotone yet inside he was a swirling mix of confusion that constantly made him what to be sick now.

He could feel Pete's hesitation as he placed his hand back on his back and rubbed his back again. “What's wrong with the band?” He paused for a brief moment, and then quieter than the first question, he asked, “What's wrong with us?”

“What's wrong with the band? Joe and I are constantly fighting, Andy has taken to spending more and more times with other bands just to be away from us, and the fans hate us and everything we do. Why the hell would keeping the band alive he a good thing?”

“Some people are always going to hate what we do, Trick, I thought we'd talked about this before?” Pete said, which was true. They'd talked about it extensively once they had started to hook up again a few months back after a few bad shows with supposed “fans” booing them on stage. But it didn't necessarily help him. “And you didn't say what was wrong with us?”

Patrick sighed again for what felt like the millionth time. “I can't do it anymore, Pete. I thought living a life where I at least got some part of you would be good enough, but it's not. I can't stand knowing that I would give up anything for you and that you wouldn't do the same for me.”

“But I would, Patrick, I would,” Pete said, his voice begging Patrick to understand.

Patrick shook his head. “No, you wouldn't. And that's okay, that's not you fault. It's my fault for expecting you to, honestly. But that's just part of why I need a break. From the band and,” he gestured between the two of them, “this.”

He knew that now. Deep down when he and Pete had began their relationship again he had secretly hoped he'd leave Ashlee for him. But he never did. He loved her with all his heart, maybe in a way that he could never have loved Patrick. It didn't matter that Patrick had loved him in that way anymore.

“But,” Pete said, “what are we going to tell Joe and Andy?”

“I've already talked to them about it,” Patrick said, knowing it would make Pete angry, but that it didn't really matter at this point. “And while they're not exactly thrilled, they need a break, too.”

Pete looked at Patrick, his eyes looking completely lost in the dark. “But what am I supposed to do? You're my best friend, and so is this band! I can't lose you guys.”

Tears were welling in Patrick's eyes. He knew that he had to do this, but that didn't make it any easier. In fact it made him feel selfish and weak.

“You're not losing us. We're just... taking a break for a while is all,” he said.

Pete stared numbly into the distance. “When does it start?” he asked, his tone dead.

“After the Madison Square Garden show. It seemed appropriate to go out in a big way,” Patrick explained.

Pete was quiet. He stared out the window of the hotel that was overlooking New York, seeming to be completely lost somewhere in his thoughts. In a few days time the band and them would no longer be a thing for the first time in nearly ten years. How was it possible to lose your whole world in such a short span of time?

“I'm sorry, Pete,” Patrick said. “If I thought that there was any other way to do this I would. But I can't go out there and sing those songs anymore and know what they're about or listen to the people who were supposed to love us hate us so violently anymore.”

“Are you happy?” Pete asked, not even looking away from the window.

Patrick thought back to the first time he had asked him that question and the answer he had originally given him. Maybe he should have been honest back then and none of this would have ever happened.

“No, Pete. I'm not happy. But I'm hoping that this can make me less miserable.” He stared out at the city lights, too, wondering how the hell his world had ended up this way. “Are you happy?”

They sat there so long Patrick was sure they would sit there for the rest of the night. It would be a fine way to spend his last night with Pete, staring out at the lights of a city together the way they used to back in Chicago.

Eventually Pete sighed, stood up, and grabbed his things from the floor. “Goodnight, Patrick.”

The door closed.

“Goodnight, Pete.”

**Author's Note:**

> So I love to read stories that work with these two songs so damn much, but as you can see, I'm not the best at writing with them. Which is possibly because of the fact that writing about cheating between characters makes me feel like I'm trying to somehow try to justify it??? I loved this prompt and would love to return to it and possibly redo it to directly play with these two songs, but this is what I came up with!


End file.
